That Curl
by HappeDaez
Summary: A bunch of one-shots with various pairings, all foucusing on those little, weird curls. Chapter Ten: Denmark/Norway
1. Chapter 1:GermanyItaly

That Curl

Chapter One: Germany-Italy

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers and the people in this work of pure fiction do not actually represent the countries named in any way or form._

Germany stared at it as Italy babbled on, smiling aimlessly.

It was bothering him immensely. He was losing sleep, because of the stupid thing! It waved with the Italian's gestures, as he contently talked about pasta or art or some equality stupid thing.

It swayed and dipped and curled, and all at once, Germany lost it.

"What is that thing?!" He roared over Italy, pointing at the single curl that projected out of Italy's otherwise normal hairstyle.

Italy blinked.

"Ve~?" He asked in apparent confusion, tilting his head to the side curiously. The hair bobbed, _mocking_ him.

Angrily, Germany grabbed hold of it and pulled it a bit.

"What the hell is this?" He muttered angrily at Italy, not noticing how Italy had all at once gotten pale and then very, very flushed.

"P-Please let go of that." Italy ground out, his legs shaking, and his head spinning. Blood rushed to his face and somewhere a bit lower.

"No!" Germany said defiantly. "Not until you explain what this thing is!" He ran one of his fingers down the length of it and back up, missing the Italian's sharp intake of breath and almost notable tighten of his blue pants.

"Germany…" The Italy moaned softly. Germany blinked and saw the smaller boy's face, flushed and feeling some strange unknown emotion.

"Huh?" He asked, before Italy jumped and all of a sudden, a mass of kissing and husky moans that Germany was very sure could not be coming from him. Hands moved, mouths met, and the unspoken rising tension was splayed out and filled the actions, the movement's slowing only as Germany let go of the hair curl.

Italy pulled away, noticeably just as aroused as Germany, and felt the blood rush back into his face.

Germany didn't say anything, and the silence was tense and palatble.

As Italy started flurried, miserable apologizing, Germany leaned down and gave Italy a chaste kiss on the mouth.

Italy paused, confusion spreading through his face.

"I think…I think I understand what that thing is, now." Germany said, turning slightly and coughing into his fist.

Italy smiled and whispered into Germany's ear_. _

_Ve, my house is close, Romano isn't home…_

Germany had never moved so fast in his life.

**A/N**: _Next chapter: Prussia/Canada!_


	2. Chapter 2:PrussiaCanada

That Curl

Chapter Two: Prussia/Canada

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers and the people in this work of pure fiction do not actually represent the countries named in any way or form._

_This chapter is dedicated to that Anon person who totally made me write this with (I quote): "__oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. Please promise the internet that you will update as fast as humanly possible." In _caps_. Dear Anon, I love you. Please get a profile so I can thank you._

Three a.m. was a wonderful, peaceful time, Matthew believed. It should be spent dreaming about pleasant, calming things.

It should not be spent getting the door-bell for god-knows-who.

Matthew shuffled to the door as his doorbell rang again and again, rubbing his eyes. Kumajiro hadn't woken up, despite the rapid ringing and knocking at the door.

Matthew nervously opened the door, hoping it wasn't a robber or something.

It was worse.

Prussia stood shivering at the door, soaked with the rain and with the scariest smile Canada had ever seen in his life.

"Hey! Canada! Cana-" Matthew shut the door, and trudged back to his bed.

Frantic knocking and ringing of the bell continued the instantly after the Canadian shut the door, and so a moment later, Matthew opened the door unenthusiastically.

"Yes, Prussia?" He asked, in confusion and exasperation.

"Hey Mattie!" The Prussian continued, happily. "Make the awesome that is me some pancakes, okay?"

Canada gaped. "You…You came to my house at three in the morning for pancakes?" Canada was touched, albeit only a little, but it was mostly covered by disbelief.

Prussia nodded enthusiastically, pushing past the surprised boy into the house, and shaking off the water that had collected on him.

"Uh-huh!" He answered cheerfully, the little yellow bird on his head shaking off the water in a similar fashion. He looked at the tired short nation beside him. "So, make them!" His face was full of smiling obliviousness, and somehow Canada couldn't push the other out into the rain.

Sighing heavily, the Canadian motioned to the kitchen. "Come on." He turned towards the room, Prussia following cheerfully.

Matthew pulled out the bowl and mix, and set to reluctantly making the pancakes.

Prussia sat down on a chair behind the counter, his bird buzzing around the house excitedly. He swung his legs idly, staring at Matthew make pancakes with a soft, unusual absentminded smile.

Matthew finally brought out the cooked pancakes, warm and golden-brown.

Prussia grinned widely, and dug into them with gusto.

"Hey, wait." Matthew said, holding a bottle. "You have to put this on them." He held the maple syrup to Gilbert expectantly.

The albino nation blinked. "Maple what?"

Now it was Canada's turn for surprise, as he exclaimed, "You don't know what maple syrup is?"

Prussia nodded, face stuffed with pancakes. "Never heard of it."

Matthew opened the bottle, and poured a generous amount onto the Prussian's food, ignoring Gilbert's squawk of protest.

Prussia frowned, poking the syrup-covered food with his fork. "How do I know that's not poison?"

Matthew sighed. He put a finger into the syrup and licked it off.

"See?" He said. "Not poison."

Gilbert didn't really pay attention, because the sight of Matthew sucking gently on his finger was something he'd like to tape and replay and replay…

Prussia took a tentative bite of the food, and with surprise he got up and knocked Matthew over in a crushing hug.

"Awesome!" He yelled arms tight around the blushing Canadian. "That's really good!"

He looked at the Canadian happily, and noticed that a piece of curly hair was in the way of his sight. He reached and brushed it away slowly.

Suddenly, Canada tensed, his face breaking out into a blissful blushing look and his mouth parted.

"_Ahn…_" He gasped, the noise surprising the Prussian. "Huh?" Gilbert muttered in interest. He poked the strand again. A repeated moan broke from the smaller of the two, and his face increased in redness.

"G-Gilbert…plea-please don't…" Stuttered Matthew, trying very hard not to arch up into the tall nation.

Gilbert grinned a devilish smile. "I don't know what this thing is, but I think you should do that again."

He took the piece of hair and pulled slightly on it.

Matthew's reaction increased.

"G-Gilbert…" He moaned.

Prussia took the strand and licked it slowly, paying close attention to Matthew's reaction.

Matthew was in such bliss he moaned unrestrained, arching up into the Prussian and bringing his face up closer.

"Oh…n…" Matthew said.

Prussia smiled down at Matthew and quickly kissed him. Matthew responded and kissed back with force.

They wouldn't move from that spot until morning.

A/N: Ah! So many reviews, you are all so kind! ~ _Next chapter: US/UK_


	3. Chapter 3:AmericaEngland

That Curl

Chapter Three: US/UK

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis powers: Hetalia and no part of this are referring to actual countries._

England never would have guessed that Alfred would have one of _those_. He knew the Italy brothers both had one, but not Alfred.

As he stroked the little cowlick, he wondered if he wasn't, would America be making such cute little noises.

Bottles of expensive alcohols littered the floor, England was way beyond the point of drunk, and was not caring a bit. He wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't drunk, after all.

He had discovered that America had one of these by accident, and was exploiting it to the best of his ability. He smirked, and made the mistake of letting go of the hair.

America grabbed onto England, and pulled down the British nation from his perch on top of him.

Kissing England with all his might, America pushed the drunken nation down and dedicated all of his attentions to the slender neck Arthur possessed.

England mewled and blushed while holding on to Alfred, who had somehow taken off his shirt and the British man's at once.

They continued, and England moaned as the button to his trousers came undone by the topping American.

Alfred broke away from Arthur long enough to proclaim, "Arthur, you are going to stay here and fuck until you can't walk."

Arthur looked up at the smirking American and said, "Well, the same goes for you."

Arthur knew that in the morning his head and ass would be really sore, but it was _so_ worth it.

A/N: _Next chapter: Spain/Romano!_


	4. Chapter 4:SpainRomano

That Curl

Chapter 4: Spain/Romano

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, dammit._

_Dedication: All the reviewers, fav's, and story alerters. I love you all…! _

Spain was enjoying himself immensely.

Romano was not.

The two were in a café that specialized in tomato foods, but Romano would rather be somewhere else, because to him, the damn happy Spanish man made fun stuff _un_-fun.

"I want to go home, dammit." The sulky Italian muttered into his crossed arms, leaning on the table.

Spain just smiled at him fondly, laughed. "This is fun, right Romano?"

Romano unhappily swore and put his hands to his head.

"I'd fun if anyone but you was here, dammit." He simmered, letting out a breath and settling his hands in a different spot on his head.

That was when he felt _it_.

Spain was smiling and patting the shorter boy's head with what was supposed to be reassurance, but right now, it was giving Romano feelings of something else entirely.

Romano was filled with unwilling arousal at the feeling of his curl being touched.

Spain was saying something with a smile, but Romano couldn't hear over the sound of blood rushing to his face rapidly.

"Chi~gi…" He gasped, and his hands flew to his mouth and he stared at Spain without any sort of glare.

Spain noticed that.

"What?" He asked, hand moving slightly on the curl.

"Nnn…!" Romano moaned, unable to form any sort of response. Spain stared, oblivious to the reaction he was unintentionally creating within the nation's crotch.

He took his hand off the smaller boy's head, and their cheery waiter put the food on their table.

For once, Romano didn't curse at Spain for the whole evening.

Romano flopped down onto his bed dejectedly. He was unhappy how the evening had gone.

Turning, he felt paper crinkle under him. Blinking, he brought it up, and read it.

It was a note written in his brother's scribble-like handwriting.

_Hey,_ _Hey Romano! I am going to Germany's house, I'll be back sometime. I invited Spain over so you won't be lonely! Ve~_

Cursing, Romano heard the doorbell ring as if on cue.

He answered it, scowling.

"Hey Romano!" The happy Spanish man greeted. "Your brother invited me over."

Romano let him in and blushed faintly, remembering the events of the restaurant.

"Hey, Romano." The taller nation called from somewhere in the house. Romano blinked, surprised.

_Huh_?

Where had the other gone? Looking around, he saw Spain in his bedroom, smiling at a picture he held in his hand.

Romano walked into his room, and looked over the taller nation, trying to see the picture.

He was met with surprise as Spain closed the door with his foot, smiling dangerously.

"Eh?!" He squeaked as Spain gently pushed him onto his bed, smiling with a slightly apologetic expression.

"What are you doing, dam-!" Romano was silenced by the older boy's mouth softly closing in on his. Romano struggled, but his attempts where fruitless, and he soon succumbed to the loving attentions of the Spanish male on top of him.

Spain placed a knee in between Romano's legs, placing pressure on his vital regions. He combed through Romano's hair and kissed him with passion, Romano responding just as eagerly.

Minutes later when the two separated, Romano whispered a quiet "Why?"

Spain looked down at the breathless nation.

"Simple." He said, grinning. "Cause I love you. And-" He stated, flicking the curl.

"Nn!" Romano interrupted.

"This was an opportunity not to pass up." He told his beloved Romano, and leaning back down, he smiled at the whispered "I love you too, you bastard."

_A/N: Thank you for all the response! Amazing!_

_I am holding a quick vote for the next chapter, who would you guys want? I will take votes for three days. Then, I'll publish a chapter based on the votes._


	5. Chapter 5:ChinaKorea

That Curl

Chapter Five: Korea/China

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything, aru._

"What the hell, aru?!" screeched Yao, pointing with a horrified look, at Korea.

"What is it, _aniki_?" asked Korea. "Did you realize your feelings for me?"

"No, aru! My feelings for you are hatred!" The Chinese man confirmed. That wasn't the problem. The problem was the slightly taller nation's long hair.

"It has a face!"

"What does?"

"Your hair, aru!" He said.

Korea looked at him puzzled. "What? _Aninki_, you are going crazy." He smiled.

"But your breasts will always belong to Korea!" he yelped, jumping into the pony-tailed nation, groping Yao's non-existent breasts.

"Get off, aru!" Yelled China, trying with no avail to shake the younger nation of him. In desperation, he grabbed Im Soo's hair, not expecting to _feel_ exactly what that motion had made him feel through the fabric of his hangbok.

"_A-aniki_…" Korea moaned. China smirked. An opening! He successfully flung Korea off, and he landed on the ground, a red-faced mess.

"Ah…"He muttered, seeing how Korea was just dejectedly just laying there.

"Korea?" He asked, bending to see if the younger, but still taller nation was okay.

"Hah!" Yelled Korea, pulling Yao down, on top of him.

"W-What? Let go, aru!" Yelled Yao, struggling.

Korea snickered cheerfully and flipped it so he was on top of China.

A half a hour later, a very happy Korean and a grudgingly satisfied China walked out of the room, China limping a bit.

"I still say it has a face, aru."

"Ahaha, crazy was invented in Korea!"

A/N: Next chapter: Interlude! (Disclaimers where invented in Korea.)


	6. Chapter 6:Canada is Really Drunk

That Curl

Chapter Six: In Which Canada Is Really, Really Drunk

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers. Achoo._

_A/N: Thanks to SetoJouFan for giving me this idea, and to Zerotation for cementing the inspiration for this chapter. ~ Oh, also. This chapter is not fully connected to the other one-shots, so…slightly different pairings._

Canada, Greece, Austria, Norway and America sat around a table, discussing their lives. The passing conversation was loud and rowdy, but eventually lowered as the evening went on.

"And, and…it's just awful!" Canada finished, much too drunk to know what he was talking about.

His face was filled with a cute blush, and his head hummed pleasantly. He slumped down in his seat giggling a little at nothing.

Norway was leaning on him. "You know what else is awful?" He asked Canada with a slightly intoxicated lilt to his voice.

"W-What?" Canada asked. Norway was a bit too close to his curl for his comfort.

"Denmark." Norway answered, looking deadly serious even while on what must have been his seventh glass.

"Okay." The Canadian breathed, staring at the light-bulb with wonder. How did it do that?

"It's really awful though." Norway said, trying to sound scary, and failing greatly.

"Why?" Asked the wavy haired nation, yawning.

"He's like a freight train."

"Eh?"

"I mean in the bedroom." Everyone at the table paused.

"He just doesn't stop with the curl." Norway continued, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, yeah. Gilbert does that too."

"I mean, it's an easy way to start, but it's not a button, y'know?"

"Yeah!" Canada squeaked, swaying to an imaginary beat.

"Really?" America asked, more smashed than either of them. "I didn't know it was that bad. England just uses mine when he's drunk or trying to get me to listen."

America smirked.

"Either way, he still gets himself fucked."

He snickered to himself in the corner, while Norway stared impassively and Canada looked suitably shocked.

Austria joined the conversation, still attempting to keep his dignity while the wine rushed to his head.

"I think that you shouldn't be talking about this in such a place." He slurred, keeping his eyes steady the four Canada's and Norway's.

"Ehh, like your any better." Canada muttered drunkly. "You're sleeping with Switzerland, right?"

Austria went red. "What gave you that idea?!" He half-shouted.

Norway stared at him. "Your face."

Austria 'hmped' and turned away unsteadily.

Greece looked at them smiling his usual smile.

"It's worse for me, though." He told them, steady and seemingly sober.

Norway frowned. "How are you not dead? And what do you mean, worse? What's worse that having your curl played with all the time?"

"Turkey thinking it's funny and doing it in public all the time if you don't stop him." Greece answered. "Also, I have had just as much as you. I just have a high tolerance from Turkey trying to get me drunk and into my pants." He lazily petted one of his cats that he had somehow smuggled into the bar.

"Eh. I guess you got it hard, eh…" Canada said, stumbling over and giving the Greek a hug, nearly falling over.

The Greek man started petting Canada's head instead of the cat, humming lightly.

"I think you've had enough." He told Matthew, smiling.

"O…ka-y." Matthew said, half-sleeping from the relaxing humming.

America called England, and England picked him up. Soon after, almost everyone had left except Norway and Canada.

"I'll… see you soon?" Canada offered.

Norway nodded; a tiny smile on his face.

Moments later, Norway's cab came.

With Norway gone, Canada was all alone.

Going into the empty bathroom, Canada pulled out his cell-phone and called for Prussia to pick him up.

"Hey…Prussia?" He asked the phone.

"Hey Mattie!" The phone answered Gilbert's cheerful, loud voice loud on the receiver.

"Can…Can you pick me up? I'm at the bar, and everyone's gone now."

"Okay! The awesomeness will see you soon!" Prussia boomed, happily.

"Oh yeah, Prussia?" Canada asked, remembering his conversation with Norway.

"Hmm?" Canada could hear the chirping of Prussia's chick in the background.

"When I get home, can we have sex?"

Canada heard the sound of an angry man yelling, a cat screeching, and a window smashing.

"Definitely!" Prussia screamed into the phone, most definitely over the speed limit.

Canada smiled as he flipped the phone shut. Now, he knew Prussia would be here soon.

Very, very soon.

A/N: Like? _Next chapter: Undecided, sorry guys._


	7. Chapter 7:TurkeyGreece

That Curl

Chapter Seven: Turkey/Greece

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers_

Nothing could prevent Turkey from getting what he wanted.

Nothing.

So why was he being denied what he wanted most?

Right now, Greece, his longtime rival and shorter-time lover, was leaning on a pole, looking calm and smiling at a cat rubbing on his leg.

Right now, he just wanted the pole to be used as a support while he fucked his adorable little country into the highest realms of pleasure.

But he didn't, because Greece could-and would- throw him off him, (and possibly arrest him) for the actions, no matter how much Turkey knew Greece would enjoy it.

Turkey twitched and tried to keep himself from plastering his body on the delicious looking boy in front of him.

Greece gave a happy smile to the cat, and bent over to pet it…showing his perfect, god-like ass to Turkey.

Turkey lost it.

He sauntered over to the oblivious sleepy nation, and smirked, waiting for his to sense his presence, all the while staring at his lover's sexy-as-hell ass.

Greece soon stood upright, and immediately turned.

"What are you doin-Mmph!" Greece exclaimed, mouth unable to form words as Turkey boldly devoured it with his own.

He kissed the shorter nation passionately, and wasn't stopped until he felt Greece knee him in the groin, which didn't pain him as much as arouse.

"What the hell!" Greece said, eyebrows slanted and arms crossed. A heavy blush covered his pale cheeks, and his clothing was rumpled from the contact.

"Sorry, you where just so sexy there." Turkey drawled, grinning. He put one arm above Greece on the pole, partly-trapping him from escape. He put the other arm on Greece's waist.

Greece turned his head cutely.

"I don't see why you can do that. There aren't many people here, but that doesn't give you the excuse of just doing that to me whenever you-" Greece's speech went silent as Turkey gave a playful twirl of his double-curl, elegantly stroking the hair.

Greece couldn't do anything but stay quiet and moan, so overwhelming was the waves of pleasure crashing down on him.

"A-Ahnn…" Greece moaned, unable to stop himself.

The moment Turkey stopped; Greece flung him away (after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek) and muttered solemnly, "No sex for a week."

Turkey opened his mouth.

"Yes, that includes nights." Greece snapped.

Turkey felt like Greece had just kicked him again.

He quickly brightened…

After all, in order to get back in the Grecian's pants, all he had to do was be as alluring to Greece as Greece was to him…

Turkey smirked with an expression scary enough to rival Russia's.

Oh, this was going to be a fun week….

A/N: So you guys like? XD _Next_ _chapter: Russia/Someone! (Can't decide yet…your opinions?)_


	8. Chapter 8: PrussiaAustria

That Curl

Chapter Nine: Prussia/Austria

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis powers: Hetalia. _

_A/N: In which Austria is given hard-core yaoi hentai. XD_

Austria sat, hunched over the thin book in his hands. His face was red and his eyes wide.

His mouth was slightly open, his breathing sharp.

He was in a daze, staring at the detailed page.

Turning a page with his blush increasing, he didn't hear Prussia come in the room.

Prussia hummed happily, arms swinging. Noticing Austria, he snuck up behind him, looking over his shoulder at the book with curiousity.

Prussia's eyes widened at the picture. His face slowly turned into a smirk.

"Hey…Austria." He purred, directly into the nation's ear.

Austria slammed the small book closed, spinning around to face Prussia, his face nervous and red.

"E-eh? What do you want, Prussia?" He asked, wearing an anxious face.

"What are you reading?" Gilbert asked, smirking widely.

"N-Nothing! I got it from Japan!" Austria yelped, hiding it behind his back.

"Seems interesting. Can I see it?" Prussia asked, looking at Austria the way a fox looks at prey.

"No!" Austria yelled, turning on his heels and attempting to run away.

Prussia plucked the book from him and lazily flipped through.

"Oh my Austria, I didn't know you where into this…" He teased, snickering.

"I'm not! Japan gave it to me when I asked what _yaoi_ was!"

Prussia looked confused.

"Whatever." He said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know what yio-eh is, but this is porn."

Austria felt his face burn.

"No, it most certainly is not!"

"Yes, it is." Prussia stated, holding up the book, pages open. Two men were on the page, one doing something unmentionable to the other.

Prussia flipped it over and looked at it, with a considering face.

"Hey, Austria. How flexible are you?"

"Eh? What does that have to do with anything?" Austria asked, puzzled, his flushed face slowly fading to a soft pink.

Prussia smirked, and reached forward slowly.

"Because page 43 about to become a reality." He said, and he kissed Austria soundly.

Austria stiffened, torn between running away and leaning into Gilbert. He decided on the latter, and was rewarded with a twirl the curl on his head.

"Oh…" He breathed, pushing himself closer to Gilbert, threading his hands in Prussia's soft white hair and kissing him deeply.

Prussia almost smirked into the kiss and gently led Austria willingly to the bedroom, still caressing his skin with his cool hands.

A few hours later in the bedroom, Prussia grinned, worn out.

"See? I told you that you where flexible enough!"

A/N: Ahh…Love. _Next chapter: either Greece/Japan or Greece/Turkey._


	9. Chapter 9:RussiaAmerica

That Curl

Chapter Nine: Russia/America

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia _

Exiting the door with no grace, America hummed a reality show's theme song under his breath, not noticing where he was going.

"Hero~…" He sung lowly. He turned the corner quickly, bumping into someone's chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry-Oh." He stopped, noticing who it was.

"Hello America." Russia said, smiling.

America shivered slightly, liking the way Russia's accent sounded with his name. However, he held it back, considering the fact that Russia was a villain, and he was a hero!

"Go away, you communist!" he yelled up at Ivan.

"America…" Russia said, smile dropping at the corners.

America shivered again, this time slightly more noticeable.

"Hmph!" Alfred muttered to cover it, stalking away.

Russia sighed, and suddenly noticed America's hair curl.

"America." He called out once more, this time causing a visible tremor in the blonde.

"What?" Alfred stated, unhappy.

"What is this, da?" Ivan asked, stroking America's hair curl.

"R-Russia!" America collapsed in Russia's arms, moaning loudly.

Russia blinked in surprise, noticing the reaction.

"Are you okay, da?" He asked, fingering the curl.

The only response he got was some strangled moans and what sounded like an attempt at calling him a bastard.

Ivan smirked. A silent Alfred?

This, he could have fun with.

_A/N: Is the ending okay…? Next chapter: I'll find something…right?_


	10. Chapter 10:DenmarkNorway

That Curl

Chapter 10: Denmark/Norway

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia._

Norway looked impassively at Denmark, who seemed to be in a trance, staring at the television with a worshiping daze.

Norway didn't like to admit it, but recently, if Denmark didn't pay attention to him, he would feel pretty let-down. If Denmark talked to someone else, smiled at someone else, hell, if he _looked_ at someone else, he would immediately frown more so than usual.

Denmark, being the dense idiot he was, didn't seem to notice at all.

Norway thought darkly in the kitchen looking like something out of a horror movie, with one of his hands chopping carrots and the other causing tiny half-moon dents in the wooden cutting board.

Exhaling slowly, Norway lessened his tight grip on the knife. He needed to calm down. It wasn't any business of his if Denmark wanted to associate with other people, in fact, it was normal.

Norway shouldn't care.

But he did.

Norway heard Denmark talking happily on his cell phone, the TV still blasting.

Dear god, he _cared. _

Putting the knife down, he went up to his room. He needed to think.

Denmark waited until Norway was out of sight before switching off the TV and collapsing onto the couch, whispering conspiringly to the person on the other end.

"I don't think its working." He stated, feeling uncharacteristically gloomy.

"Really?" Finland said, not really paying attention on the other line.

"Yeah! He isn't paying attention at all!" Denmark whined, rolling off the couch with a thud.

"I'm sure he is, Denmark. Maybe you just need to look harder." Finland assured, feeding Hana-tamago a biscuit. The small, fluffy dog yipped in agreement.

"Okay…if you say so." Denmark grumbled.

He brightened.

"Finland! I have the best idea!" Denmark said, happily.

"Uh, what is it?" Tino asked, slightly nervous.

"I'll just have to find his weakness!"

"What does that have to do-" Finland began to ask.

"Do you know any?!" The tall nation asked, jumping up from his slouching position on the floor.

"Uh…" Tino murmured, thinking. "I guess that curl thing of his."

"The floating thing?!"

"Uh…yes?"

"Okay!"

Dial tone sounded. Tino sighed heavily.

"I hope it goes okay." He told Hana-tamago.

Hana-tamago yipped cheerily in reply.

Denmark attempted to quietly sneak into Norway's room.

He failed.

Spectacularly so.

Somehow, however, Norway slept through the crashing noises caused by Denmark.

Tip-toeing up to stand next to the sleeping Norway, Denmark paused to think about what he should do next.

Seeing Norway's curl, he decided that, (seeing as it seemed to be attached to his head at the moment) he would just have to pull it and see what happened.

Reaching out with an unsure hold, Denmark grasped the hair curl firmly, pulling on it slightly.

He was startled when Norway let out a low sound of arousal, his sleeping face becoming pink and he turned slightly into the hold.

Letting a devious grin overtake his face, Denmark pulled again and stroked the hair, petting it softly. Norway moaned again, his face darkening, and his excitement becoming slightly noticeable as a bulge in his pants mirrored Denmark's own problem.

Carefully climbing on top of the sleeping nation, Denmark pressed his lips hungrily to Norway, stroking his curl in quick, long motions.

Norway stirred from his sleep, eyes wide open when he fully felt Denmark on top of him, grinding into him with his hips and mouth.

Not wasting a second, Denmark pushed his tongue into Norway's open mouth, opening his eyes just enough to see the barely contained pleasure on the shorter boy's face.

Norway was quick to recuperate, slipping a hand under the thin material of Denmark's shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath.

Denmark broke away just enough to murmur to Norway a sentence.

"Norge, I love you, you know that?"

Norway closed his eyes, tear escaping from pure joy.

"You…I love you, Denmark." And with that, he kissed Denmark, pouring his feelings into the kiss, feeling Denmark do the same.

Denmark and Norway had a fairytale romance.

And so, as they say, all fairytale's have a happy ending.

Denmark and Norway, however, had a happy beginning.

_A/N: Ahh. Done._


End file.
